During summers in the 1950s, the women in Vancouver, Wash., went into canning overdrive. Shelves sagging with pristine preserved produce gave most of them bragging rights; some even turned the enterprise into an out-and-out competition.
Our family, along with the rest of the community, began our endeavors as early as possible. In February, the mailman's pouch strap dug into his shoulder as he carried stacks of catalogs for the “contestants.” My father bought Early Girl tomatoes
